Beginnings
by Validor
Summary: Romance buds after the war--from Trowa's 3rd person limited POV.


Beginnings  
  
Warnings: Too much sappy description, mild drug use. Shonen-ai. Don't worry, it's just a sweet story about feeling good when you think maybe you've got something going with somebody.  
  
Trowa knew he was in the audience. It wasn't just the observant instincts of a Gundam pilot that alerted him to a special presence within the crowd. He knew that he wouldn't hear a certain voice among all the shrieking children and gasping parents, but he didn't have to. He knew. The performance went on, and no one could tell that Trowa's mind was not completely on the circus.  
  
He finished cleaning up and managed to avoid Catherine on his way out of the tent. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the lights of the big top to the night of earth, and in that time he also adjusted to the too infrequent feeling of being near someone who understood. Quatre was waiting for him.   
  
"Hi, Trowa." His voice was hardly more than a part of the autumn air that stirred around them. The chill was not uncomfortable, rather it woke something in Trowa that made him more aware of the clothes against his skin and the wind brushing his fingertips and the smell of hay.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Things are a little slow in the office, so I took a few days off. It's nothing important," Quatre added quickly, allaying Trowa's unspoken suspicion that Quatre's unexpected presence had to do with Preventor's business.  
  
"I'm glad you're here," said Trowa. He walked to the lion's cage, where it was his habit to rest and think for a while before joining the circus community around the fire in the middle of camp. Quatre had visited often enough to know the routine, and he followed.  
  
"You guys were great tonight. It gets better every time I see it."  
  
Trowa let himself smile at the compliment, because Quatre was a person who liked to be sure that other people were happy. It was an effort to remember, and he knew that Quatre, of all people, would not mistake his outward passiveness for a lack of emotion, but he made the effort because it was hard not to try to make Quatre happy.  
  
"You don't have do such dangerous stunts, though. I can hardly watch the trapeze parts. Are you sure you can't just be a normal clown and restrict yourself to making balloon animals? And can't Catherine ever throw pies instead of knives?"  
  
His smile came more readily this time. "People like to see danger. They don't know this is nothing compared to Gundam piloting." The lion rolled over and purred as Trowa scratched under his chin. "And anyway, Quatre, you're scared of clowns."  
  
"Hmph!" Quatre sounded like he couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or confused. "I told my sisters not to tell you any more stories about me. And anyway, Trowa, I wouldn't be scared of you."   
  
Trowa kept his attention on the lion and thought about that. There were many soldiers, older and stronger than this slender blond, who had died at Trowa's hands with screams of terror in their mouths. Was it possible for anyone to forget that? His eyes narrowed and the smile was gone like the painted mask he wore for his performances.   
  
He didn't realize how long the silence had lasted until Quatre spoke again. "We'll never forget, Trowa. I accept it, though, and I'll deal with it as long as I have to. Forever, if that's what my fate is."  
  
"A lifetime seems long enough," he said quietly.   
  
"Trowa." His name, spoken not only by the other's lips but by the intangible entity that made him human, carried all the gentle compassion of his years of sorrow and hope. "Every moment, every moment, is to be cherished. Even by people like us. We can't change what we did, and I wouldn't change it, and not just because it all worked out okay. You told me, it's different for people like us, it's harder. How could I continue to believe in the truth of our actions if I didn't think that you believed in the beauty of the life we created for ourselves?"   
  
"No one said that what I do has to have any effect on you."  
  
"It's true, though." Quatre shifted his weight from foot to foot and looked toward the flickering light of the fire. "Trowa…" He sighed, and tried again. "I can't explain it, but ever since the day we met I knew we were connected. I know what you feel, even when I'm on the colony and you're on Earth. I know we went through a lot together during the war, but even without that I'd love you. You're not alone, and you'll always be a part of me, even if you don't want to."  
  
"I love you." Trowa felt like he had to say that. Quatre undoubtedly understood that much already, but some reassurance seemed to be necessary. It was surprisingly easy to upset Quatre's confidence.   
  
"It bothers me that you're so sad."   
  
"It has nothing to do with you, darling. I'll be okay." Trowa stood up. "I bet Catherine has soup."  
  
"You are psychic, aren't you?" They walked back to the warmth of civilization.  
  
It was just cold enough to make the fire welcome. The conversations of the circus troupe were comfortable, and aided by various substances that were being passed around. Trowa calmly took a seat near Catherine and merely shook his head when she offered him a joint. Noticing Quatre, she giggled and waved, and passed it on.  
  
"Hi, Catherine. How are you?" Quatre sat down on the other side of Trowa and leaned across him to talk to his sister.  
  
"Oh, Quatre, I'm fine!" She, too, leaned over, and Quatre recoiled. "How are you?"   
  
Trowa held her shoulders and made her sit back up.  
  
"I'm fine, thank you. It was a great show tonight."  
  
"Wasn't it? The audience was great!"  
  
"Hey, Catherine! Over here!" A group of performers and some of their friends near the tent waved to her.  
  
"Okay!" She stood up, almost fell, looked at Trowa and giggled again, and stumbled away.  
  
"Is she drunk?" asked Quatre.  
  
"Yeah, pretty much."  
  
"Aren't you worried about her?"  
  
"At least I know where she is. We all look out for each other, but this happens a little too frequently for me to be okay with it." He shook his head. "She's an adult, and she'll do whatever she wants."  
  
Quatre scooted closer to him so that their arms were touching. Trowa noticed the proximity of Quatre's hand and took it in his. For a moment they both stared at what he had done, and then Quatre looked away as if nothing had happened. Part of Trowa's mind told him to be aware of everything about this moment, and remember it, but his head was filled with a buzzing that drowned out any coherent thought. He felt his heart pounding and he wondered if it meant as much to Quatre as it did to him.  
  
Quatre noticed the circus manager standing near the fringe of the fire circle and tried to pull away as he nodded hello to him. Trowa wouldn't let him. If the manager cared, he could—  
  
Quatre looked at him, raising his eyebrow but smiling.   
  
"No," said Trowa.   
  
Quatre sighed. "I guess there's nothing I can do about it, then." He glanced at their hands, resting between them as if they had been like that forever and would continue to do so until the end of time.  
  
There was no emotion evident on Trowa's face, but he had never been happier.  
  
***  
  
Two days later, it was time for Quatre to go back to the colonies. Trowa drove him to the spaceport and stood with him next to the luggage check-in counter.   
  
"Thank you guys so much for letting me stay with you." Quatre held his carry-on suitcase in front of him with both hands. Trowa noticed it as a unconscious defensive position. Good-byes were always complicated.  
  
"Any time, Quatre, you know that. We like having you."  
  
"I had a great time. It really is good to get away from all those politicians and just be with normal people."   
  
Trowa smiled. "If you call us normal."  
  
"Well, you're nice, and that's all I care about. Well." Quatre shrugged and looked at the ground, then swung the suitcase out of the way, kissed Trowa on the lips, and hopped back. "Good-bye, Trowa!" He walked backwards towards the metal detectors.   
  
Trowa smiled. "Good-bye."  
  
***  
  
He walked into the trailer and leaned against the door as he closed it behind him. He had not stopped smiling, all the way home from the spaceport. People probably thought he was crazy. He'd even said hi to a couple of the vendors as walked through the camp.   
  
"Trowa, is that you?" Catherine came out of her room to greet him. She stopped at the edge of the kitchen and put her hands on her hips. "Well," she said, smiling, "what are you so happy about?"  
  
Trowa grinned at her. "He kissed me." 


End file.
